


Big Bad World

by PrincessaBitchessa



Series: Princessa's Bitchin' Prompts 2017 [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Broken Stiles, Highkey a kid fic, Hurt Stiles, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, More Like DRIVES away, Stiles Leaves Beacon Hills, Stiles Runs Away, Stiles is Pushed Out of the Pack, because i fucking adore those, sheriff is a bad parent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-20 19:44:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9510104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessaBitchessa/pseuds/PrincessaBitchessa
Summary: The fic where the Sheriff is a bad parent, everyone sucks ass, and Stiles is broken.





	1. Who's Gonna Miss Me?

Stiles felt lost. He had no one at all anymore, because everyone had left him.

Stepping back from the McCall home where his father has taken up residency as of lately, he walked back to his car, and finally letting the tears fall. Even his own father had deserted him, leaving him in a home alone to starve, and after awhile, the home was taken too.

That just went to show what everyone thought of Stiles. No one ever thought anything pleasant of him anymore, not even the adults who’ve known him all his life and helped raised him. Everyone now looks at him with distrust, as though it was his fault that so many people died in Beacon Hills, or that everyone’s favorite sheriff had lost his job, for like, a  _ week _ .

No one thinks about how he was the one who would tutor younger kids in his down time and help the local orphans find a home (given there were only 2), but everyone only thought of the bad times.

Today’s earlier events had been the final straw. One of the Lahey twins had come up to give Stiles a hug at the grocery store, telling him about how different her life was living with her mother, when the mother wrenched her away violently.

“Stay the hell away from my children!” Lana Lahey, nee Reyes cried.

Stiles, shocked by the outburst, took a step back away from the blond woman, while she dragged Isaac away and pulled Erica away as they abandoned their groceries and ran out the store.

He stood there in the empty aisle, confused about what just happened, while security made their way over to him, and thought about why his life was suddenly like this.

Once upon a time, Stiles would have behaved for these officers that decided to just grab him and pull him, instead of asking him to leave or something, but that was before he’d discovered werewolves and been kidnapped more times that the number of fingers and toes he had.

So, instead of doing the sane thing and relaxing or asking these guys what the hell was going on, he kind of, well,  _ fought. _ Well, at least he’s pretty sure he fought them because one minute the bastards were grabbing him hard enough to leave bruises, but in the next, they were  on the ground unconscious, with split lips and fucked up noses.

He just couldn’t fucking remember. It was as though he blacked out or some shit in the time it took to put the beat down on those guards.

The thought alone freaked Stiles out a bit. He was totally having a Norman from  _ Bates Motel _ moment. Next thing you know, he’ll be killing his father (because he had already killed his mother) and the little old lady next door and what not. What even was his life?

But instead of finding out from the guards once they woke up, Stiles practically ran out of the store, while trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.

He makes it to the car before he notices people running through the aisles to the unconscious guards and pulls off before they realize he did that. In his state of panic, he goes to look for his dad, speeding directly past his house because he already knows from weeks of an empty house that that's not where his father is.

Which was how he ended up at Scott’s house, only to get back in his car and began to drive away. His father’s cruel laughter at how  _ Stiles _ wasn’t his son, that  _ Scott _ was more of a son — more of a  _ Stilinski _ — then he would ever be, followed him as he left the town he vowed to never come back to.

So long, Beacon Hills.


	2. Chapter 2: Three Times the Luck?

The highway was a long and boring stretch of nothingness. There were barely any cars on it, at least at this time of night there weren’t.

It was probably two in the morning, but Stiles wasn’t exactly sure because Scott had fucked up his car's clock and radio, so he could have been driving for a while in silence. And as Tyler Joseph once said, quiet is violent.

The noiseless of the car quickly became filled with the noises of his pent-up emotions when he finally realized that he was well and _truly_ alone.

It was like his mother’s death all over again. He didn’t really have anyone then because no one his age really understood how to a grieving person, and the teachers pretty much didn’t care because to them, a depressed kid was way better than one bouncing off of the walls. His father would drink himself into oblivion instead of worrying about his last remaining blood relative, and that was when he wasn’t working himself to the bone to stay away from a house so filled with memories of a woman that had put so much of herself into it.

This was exactly like that, only not a thing had died except his happiness and the thoughts of a big family that he once had.

While on his trip down memory lane, Stiles didn’t notice his car slowing down, until it eventually stopped, but he did notice when a stray car behind him honked their horn for an obnoxiously long time, despite it being obvious that his car wasn’t going to move. The dick could’ve just went around anyway. After all, the highway had four fucking lanes.

Leaning out of his window, Stiles showed just how annoyed he was with the fucktard. “Calm your tits! My car is broken down.” He leaned back in to pop the hood and stepped out of his car, thinking about all of his options while he walked around to the engine and attempted to figure out what the problem was.

The engine wasn’t even visible thanks to the layers of duct tape covering the damn thing. He couldn’t tell what the hell was wrong with it because (1) he didn’t know _shit_ about cars, and (2) that damn bastard behind him was still beeping their damn horn, which was _highly fucking distracting_.

Sighing heavily, while mentally preparing himself to give a verbal beat-down to a douche that could’ve just _went around him_ using any one of the other three lanes besides this one, Stiles began walking to the other person’s car.

Now, there were a couple of things Stiles had expected to see when he got to the car, but an empty car was not one of them. An empty car wouldn’t have had a horn blaring for so long, so loudly.

Confused, but mostly curious, Stiles inched closer to the car and heard… whimpering? Moving even closer with a bit of pep in his step, Stiles saw a head leaning on the wheel, with the seat behind the person looking a little wet.

He felt his skin crawl, getting the feeling that this situation just wasn’t right, but his cop’s kid instincts kicked in and gave him the courage he needed to get closer and see what was wrong with the driver.

Reaching into the car, to shake the driver awake, Stiles started talking. “Hey, dude. You alive?” Stiles scoffed at himself for making a shitty joke when — knowing his luck — it was very much possible that this person was, well, _dead_. Shaking the person proved fruitless; the only thing Stiles got out of that was a wet and sticky hand that looked like it was covered in — blood, dammit.

Stiles was a millionth of a second away from freaking the fuck out when he heard a thump from the back of the car and that strange ass whimpering sound again.

This was some shit fresh out of a crappy B-list horror movie, yet he couldn't tamp down something dep in his gut urging his two walk around and investigate.  Stiles sighed. He was gonna fucking die, wasn’t he?

Stiles looked around to look for a fucking witness to prove who - or _what_ \- killed him when he noticed that the highway was unusually quiet and absent of cars. Scratch that previous question; Stiles was definitely going to die.

Running back to his car to get his trusty bat (it had taken down countless monsters and had never failed to protect him), and back to the other car to reach over the alleged corpse to get the keys, he moved hesitantly towards the trunk of the car where the thumping and whimpering seemed to get more desperate and more erratic until it just… abruptly stopped. Stiles prayed to every god and deity out there that this would not be his last action, because he was too young to die.

Inserting the key with a mildly shaking hand while forcing himself not to close his eyes, he twists the key in the lock. The trunk pops open to reveal to him…

Three wolves?

He would’ve just have thought that were dogs, but he had seen enough in his lifetime to know that these mammals were definitely _not_ dogs.

One of them leaps up at Stiles, not in a hostile manner, but in one of an excited puppy, and tries to get to him, but can’t on account of it’s bound legs and falls back into the trunk with a thump, that sounded very much like the ones he had heard. Stiles debated the pros and cons of leaving the wolves there for someone else to deal with, but then one of the other wolves whimpered at him and flashed their eyes at him, showing a pair of glowing red eyes off, Stiles knew he was a goner. He couldn’t just leave these werewolves in such a suspicious and probably dangerous situation here, and especially ones that could full shift and obviously had some things happen to them, judging by the layer and blood and grime coating them. Also, as far as he knew, they were just kids (judging by the sizes of them) and got taken by some shitty hunters who didn't follow a code.

Throughout Stiles’s internal monologue, he failed to notice the driver of the car creeping out of the car and right behind the lifted trunk, so that they were just out of Stiles’s view. They were waiting for the right moment to pounce on him.

Stiles never wondered what happened to the driver, which he really should’ve done, considering the fact that his whole teenage life consisted of mysterious situations like this one. But alas, he did not.

He leaned down and was removing two of the wolves’ wolfbane-laced zip-tie restraints off when the trunk came down hard on his back. Stiles would have crumpled in on himself and fell onto a wolf, only he didn’t want to injure the wolves further, for they were already injured, so he fell to the side, collapsing onto the pavement, right inside of a middle lane. He looked up at the person who had attacked him and saw the face of a woman, with the body of a cadaver.

Her face was unnaturally beautiful, despite being twisted into an expression that was beyond evil and spoke of nothing but bad intentions. Her skin beneath her face, or what little he could see through the slips between a horrid turtleneck and a soft looking scarf, there was skin (if you could even call the greyish things that may have once been covering things that) that was all but falling off, revealing bone. The creature’s hand, that Stiles noticed had extremely long claws instead of normal fingernails, were reaching for him, and in the process, scaring him shitless.

Stiles had his mouth open, ready to scream while those claws would no doubt sink into his flesh, when one of the wolves leapt out and used gravity to push her to the ground. He watched as the wolf went directly for the monster’s (most likely a ghoul, now that he thought about it; the fact that she had no true skin and kidnapping young kids to probably feed on later really should have been a dead give away) chest, instead of the throat like all the other wolves in Beacon Hills did.

The wolf ripped through her sweater and reached its snout into the ghoul’s very much open and decayed chest for what seemed to be a sorry excuse of a heart. While the wolf was grabbing the heart, Stiles could make out details about it, seeing that it was hard, brown and decayed with holes littered all throughout it. But, before Stiles could make out anything else, the wolf let the decayed heart fall out from between its jaws and shatter on the asphalt of the highway. The ghoul crumpled immediately after that and didn’t move again.

Stiles sat there in confusion as he tried to process what the fuck just happened. Why the hell did the heart just _shatter_ like that? It was really fucking weird and he was going research the shit out of this when he got to wherever the fuck he was going.

While he sat there, Stiles failed to notice the wolves barking to gain his attention, until one came up and licked him from his chin to his forehead. He almost flipped out, thinking that it was the one who killed the ghoul, when he noticed it was the wolf with the fur that had colors like oil, which made him pipe down and release a breath so that he figure out what to do next. Turning his attention to the two wolves, he nodded at them before he stood up and went back to the trunk to remove the last wolf’s bounds.

After lifting it out the trunk, Stiles began walking back to his Jeep where he had a gut feeling that it would be working again. Noticing that the wolves weren’t following him, he turned and made a ‘come on’ motion with his head and opened the back door.

The wolves didn’t move right away, probably wary of the human who was taking this shit _entirely_ to calmly, but eventually weariness won out and the three wolves trudged into the back seat of the blue jeep, huddling together.

Stiles rolled his eyes at their caution, but quickly closed the car’s hood and hopped into the driver’s seat. He looked back at the three werewolves he had just acquired and shook his head because what even was his life? Stiles turned the key in the ignition and drove off into the sunset, thinking that this felt a lot like the beginning _and_ the end of a _Supernatural_ episode.


End file.
